


But to see her was to love her (love but her, and love forever)

by thegirl20



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirl20/pseuds/thegirl20
Summary: An alternative version of Tissaia's meeting with Fringilla in 'Much More' (episode 1.08).
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 44
Kudos: 147





	But to see her was to love her (love but her, and love forever)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brazenedMinstrel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenedMinstrel/gifts).



> Written for a prompt supplied by brazenedMinstrel.

_Tissaia. We must stop Fringilla._

Yennefer's voice reverberates in her mind, but she's a few steps ahead. Heading deeper into the woods, following the ripples of Fringilla's chaos until she lays eyes on her, standing unguarded.

She doesn't see the grown sorceress, hardened and twisted by Nilfgaard into a weapon of war. She sees instead the young girl, keen to assure Tissaia that freezing a cat had been an accident. It's this that drives her approach, not as an adversary, but as a friend.

"It's not too late," she calls, getting Fringilla's attention, though she's under no illusion that the younger mage hadn't detected her approach.

"I did tell you to stay out of this," Fringilla offers, turning and walking towards her.

"You can come back." Fringilla scoffs at her offer, but she persists. "I can help you."

Fringilla laughs, her lips curled in a sneer. "Do you know how Nilfgaard took Cintra? Horrible storm. Fifty Skelligen ships sunk to the bottom of the sea, wrecked in that horrible fog."

"That was you." Tissaia's heart clenches in her chest, Fringilla is further gone than she'd even imagined. "I won't let you do this." Fringilla moves to step around her and she makes one final attempt before she resorts to using magic to subdue her. "You're worth more than Nilfgaard can ever give you."

Several things happen at once, and Tissaia feels like time has slowed to allow her to watch the events in horrific detail.

Fringilla turns, something concealed in her hand, intent on throwing, going by motion of her arm.

A portal whirrs into life in the space between them, blurring her view momentarily.

When it clears, Yennefer is standing in its place.

Fear grips Tissaia's stomach as she watches a powdered substance leave Fringilla's hand in a dark cloud.

The powder flies directly into Yennefer's face and she stumbles back a step, gasping for breath.

Time rights itself as Tissaia steps forward, catching Yennefer as she staggers, her knees giving out, dragging them both to the ground.

"Yennefer," Tissaia whispers, concerned at the rattling of Yennefer's chest as she coughs and wheezes, trying to expel the powder from her lungs. She strokes her hair back from her face, noting a thin covering of dust around her mouth and nose, almost blue in hue. "Breathe, Yennefer. _Breathe._ "

"Dimeritium."

The word sends a chill through her. Every mage knows the properties and effects of the metal; it's on the curriculum at Aretuza. But she's never heard of it being used in this way. The cruelty of it cancels out any grudging pride Tissaia may have had for the ingenuity. It's in Yennefer's _lungs_ , no doubt it has made its way into her bloodstream by now, leeching her magic from inside.

"Tiss-" Yennefer gasps, a hand gripping her shoulder. "Tissaia, it's- I can't-"

"Shhhh." Tissaia urges, cupping Yennefer's cheek and feeling the dimeritium creep into her skin from the contact, numbing and muffling her chaos. "Shhhh, don't try to speak, just breathe." She rips a length of fabric from the hem of her skirts and uses it to wipe at Yennefer's face, trying to remove the worst of the powdered metal that lingers on her skin.

"Well, this is an interesting turn of events," Fringilla says, and Tissaia only graces her with a momentary scowl as she continues to try and get the dimeritium off Yennefer's skin. "Perhaps it's better this way."

Tissaia ignores her completely, resorting to using her thumbs to clear the remnants of dimeritium from around Yennefer's eyes, ignoring the cold creeping into her hands as Fringilla continues.

"I _had_ thought to physically disable you, but-." Fringilla laughs, a dry, humourless sound. "Seeing you scrabble around in the dirt with your precious _Piglet_ , it's clear that I've managed something much worse."

"And what is that?" Tissaia spits, still not bothering to look at her former pupil.

"I've crippled you emotionally," Fringilla smiles. "Let's see how well your famous control holds now, Rectoress, while your chosen one lies dying."

Her arm is up before she is conscious of moving, stretching out towards Fringilla, muscles burning as lightning ripples through them and erupts from her fingertips. The strike hits a tree, Fringilla having disappeared just in time to avoid it, leaving nothing but Tissaia's scream reverberating around the hollow.

"Is- is she right?" Her attention is drawn back to Yennefer, looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes. "Am I going to die?"

"Not as long as there's breath in my body," Tissaia says, and hopes it sounds more sure than she feels. Her hands return to Yennefer's face, but this time her touch is tender as she follows the strong jawline. "Why, Yennefer?" she asks, shaking her head. "Why did you come here? I _told_ you to stay in the tower? I wanted you kept-" She closes her eyes. "You were supposed to stay safe."

"I couldn't sense you. But I knew you'd be seeking out Fringilla." Yennefer grits out. "I thought-" She curls in on herself as another coughing fit takes over. Tissaia uses her thumb to remove the shimmering spittle at the edge of Yennefer's mouth as she catches her breath. She swallows. "I thought you were hurt. Or dead."

"And what good would it have done for you to abandon your post to find my dead body?" Tissaia demands. "How would weeping over a corpse possibly help to defeat Nilfgaard?"

Even in her current state, Yennefer somehow manages a smirk. "Who said I'd weep over you, Rectoress?"

The resulting sound that comes out of Tissaia is half snort, half sob and she turns away, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth.

"Hey." Yennefer's hand clumsily pats at her face until she turns back to meet her eyes. "Better me than you, eh?"

"What?" Tissaia's brow creases, thrown by the assertion. She shakes her head. "No! No of course not!" She heaves Yennefer further into her lap, cradling her head against her chest. "You foolish girl. You say you've lived two or three lifetimes already, I've lived _dozens_. If either of us is to die, it should be me. It _must_ be me."

"You said a minute ago I wasn't going to die!" Yennefer protests, her voice muffled from where she's pressed against Tissaia's dress.

"You're _not_ ," Tissaia says, sniffing and lifting her head. "I need to-" She looks around. There's nothing she can do in the middle of the woods, with no access to ingredients or instruments. "I need to get you back to Aretuza. We need to draw the poison out of you somehow. If we start with a poultice, that will grant me some time to-"

Gentle fingers cover her lips and she looks at Yennefer in confusion.

"You can't leave," Yennefer tells her. "You're needed here. Many of the others are hurt or-" She closes her eyes. "I- I felt them fall." She turns away to cough, her hand slipping from Tissaia's face. "They need you."

" _You_ need me," Tissaia whispers.

"That's always been true," Yennefer says, her breath short. "But they need you more. The Continent needs you. You need to go and help them, or Nilfgaard will win."

All her adult life, Tissaia has served the Continent. Her decisions have been made with the greater good in mind at all times. This should be an easy choice. But when she looks into Yennefer's eyes, for the first time she can remember, she wants to be selfish. She wants to whisk Yennefer away from harm; the rest of the world be damned.

She cups Yennefer's cheek, runs her thumb along her eyebrow, and tries to smile. "I'm so sorry," she whispers. "You only came here because I asked."

"You said 'please'," Yennefer says, with a pained laugh. "I was too shocked to refuse."

"You should never have been here," Tissaia continues. "You should never have stepped in front of me."

"Pffft," Yennefer shakes her head. "What good would I have been on that battlefield, eh?" She prods Tissaia's side. "You're the powerful one. The great Tissaia. I played my part; I kept you safe. Now you can go and save everyone."

"You have no idea of your power, do you?" Tissaia whispers. "When I told you you had so much left to give, I wasn't saying that to flatter you, Yennefer." She shakes her head, and once again finds herself stroking Yennefer's face. She's no longer sure who she's seeking to comfort. "Don't you understand? You don't just cause ripples in chaos, you tear _scars_ in it. I've never sensed such power from any other living soul." She presses her lips together and closes her eyes. "But I saw too much of myself in you, and because of that, I reined you in. I made sure you would never lose control like I-" She bites her lip. "I shackled you. And for that I am truly sorry."

When she opens her eyes, she sees none of the contempt or disgust on Yennefer's face that she expects to. In fact, she sees nothing but understanding, and perhaps even affection.

"If that's the case," Yennefer says. "Then maybe it's time you loosen your own reins. If we're alike, then you're holding back as well." She finds Tissaia's hand and squeezes it. "Let go, Tissaia. Let it all fucking go. And save everyone."

Something shifts inside Tissaia's chest. A twist. A loosening of a vice. Never once has she considered letting her chaos out. Not since she had seen what she could do during her conduit event. So much pain and suffering, she had sworn never again to be the cause of it.

But Yennefer's right. They face an enemy larger and more frightening than anything that's gone before. An enemy intent on destroying their way of life, of introducing dark magic to the world, and enslaving millions. They must be stopped.

She nods. "I'll- I'll do what must be done," she says. "And then I'll heal you."

The look Yennefer sends her tells her that they're both aware there may not be time for both, but she nods. Tissaia forces down the lump in her throat and bends to press a kiss to Yennefer's forehead. "Sweet, idiotic girl," she murmurs against her skin, and then pulls away.

"Fuck that," Yennefer says, and grabs the front of her dress, pulling her down and crashing their lips together. Tissaia manages a muffled squawk before she lets herself sink into the kiss, only vaguely aware of the numbness caused by being so close to the dimeritium. Yennefer's lips are soft and warm and gentle and Tissaia cannot remember ever feeling so much just from a simple kiss.

She pulls away, her hands cradling Yennefer's face and searching her eyes for any form of regret. Yennefer just smiles. "' _All the more reason to live tonight_ ', right?" She turns to the side to cough, wiping at her mouth before she turns back. "I wasn't going to die without doing that at least once."

A calm settles over Tissaia then. A certainty that they will kiss many more times than once. And that she _can_ save everyone. Including Yennefer.

She smiles and leans back down, pressing her lips to Yennefer's. It's far more chaste, but no less fuelled by emotion. She lets her forehead tilt against Yennefer's when they part, just letting the moment sit between them.

"Come, then," Tissaia says. "Let's go and save the Continent."

" _You_ go and save the Continent," Yennefer says, groaning as Tissaia drags her upright, urging her onto her feet. "I'm tired. I'm useless. Just leave me here."

She hefts Yennefer up straighter and holds out her arm to conjure a portal. "If you were useless, Yennefer, I'd have left you in that pig sty. I'd have let you bleed to death on the floor of your room." They shuffle forward, Yennefer leaning heavily against her. "You are not, and have never been, useless."

They collapse through the portal, and Tissaia is relieved to see that even in her harried state, she managed to bring them to a secluded area of the ruins. Yennefer's weight is too much for her and they both fall, though Tissaia manages to slow their descent a little so as not to cause further injury to Yennefer's already ravaged body.

"Shit." Yennefer squeezes her eyes closed. "Going through a portal when you've no magic of your own is an odd experience."

"Sorry," Tissaia says, getting Yennefer settled as comfortably as she can against a wall.

"Look, that's at least three times you've apologised to me," Yennefer says. "One more and I'll _know_ I'm going to die."

"Stop _saying_ that," Tissaia says, getting to her knees and glaring down at Yennefer. "I told you, I won't let you die."

"Sometimes the best thing a flower can do for us is-" Tissaia cuts her off with a hard kiss, effectively shutting her up.

"Sometimes, yes," Tissaia whispers, as she pulls away. "But not this time. Not _you_."

Yennefer nods, and Tissaia is grateful that she doesn't argue.

"Not you either," Yennefer says, clutching at Tissaia's arm before she can stand. "Don't you go dying out there today, do you hear me?" She smiles, though her lips tremble. "I don't want some idiot novice healing me, okay? I need the best." She tilts her head. "I need _you_."

"You have me," Tissaia tells her. "Always."

"Good," Yennefer says, with a nod. "And when you get back, after you've healed me, we probably should talk about this new kissing development." She shrugs. "Or we can just kiss more. I don't mind which."

Tissaia smiles and leans in to press a final kiss to Yennefer's lips. "Both, I imagine."

"Then go," Yennefer tells her, lifting a shaking hand to cup her cheek. "Go and save the world. And then come back and kiss me."

Taking the hand on her cheek, Tissaia kisses it and holds it as she stands, keeping contact with Yennefer as long as she can as she leaves. She stops at the corner, where she will move out of Yennefer's sight, and turns back. Yennefer smiles and nods and it's enough to give her the strength to carry on. With a final glance, she heads out onto the battlefield.

There is carnage all around. The dead and the dying lie side by side, oozing bodily fluids and making noises that should never come from a human being. She ignores all of it, her gaze focused on the high point of the hill, where she will have oversight of the battle.

As she makes her way there, clouds gather overhead, dark and full and foreboding.

Bushes shrivel as she passes them, and trees petrify.

Each blade of grass becomes dry and brittle.

Anything living gives up its life essence to her.

She feels the chaos well in her abdomen. It grows and twists in her belly as she absorbs more and more fuel, stoking her power in a way she has never dared to.

Centuries of keeping everything inside. Centuries of maintaining balance and control. And soon she will let it loose. It terrifies her and excites her in equal measure.

By the time she starts to climb the hill, her chaos is a living, breathing thing. It claws its way up her throat. It burns beneath her skin. It seeks release and it will find a way out of her body one way or another.

Reaching her destination, Tissaia closes her eyes and concentrates on the emotions that fuel her magic. Anger and grief are there, of course, the volatile ones, unpredictable and dangerous. But alongside them sits something new, something different. It is a warm and comforting presence, and she recognises it as the feeling that comes when she looks into Yennefer's eyes.

It is love.

Inhaling deeply, Tissaia lifts her head and looks to the sky. She smiles as this new sensation floods through her body, melding with her chaos and elevating it. She opens her hands and lifts her arms.

And she lets go.

* * *

Pain is the first thing she is aware of when she wakes. Every inch of her body hurts.

Except her right arm, which she can't feel at all.

Panic seizes her; she must have been injured, must have lost a limb in the battle.

Forcing her eyes open, she is immediately aware of what is causing the lack of sensation.

She's in a bed, and Yennefer is beside her, lying on her side, facing away. She's on top of Tissaia's arm, cutting off the supply of blood to her hand. There's a slight rattle coming from her chest, but her breaths are deep and even. She is warm and soft and _alive_.

A laugh bubbles out of Tissaia's throat and she reaches out with her free hand, almost afraid to touch her. But when her fingers make contact with silky hair, she rolls onto her side, burying her nose in Yennefer's back, relishing the solid presence of her, her scent, her skin.

"You're awake!" Triss's voice comes from behind her and she turns from Yennefer to see her. There's a bulky dressing covering her chest and neck, but she looks otherwise to be in good health.

Tissaia tries to respond, but her voice catches and sticks in a throat that's dry and unused. Triss is quickly by her side, offering her water from a ladle. She takes a few sips, letting the cool liquid sit on her tongue before swallowing. When Triss is satisfied she's had enough, she sets it aside and takes a seat beside the bed.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, eyes flitting over Tissaia's body. "You had us worried."

Tissaia shakes her head, ignoring the question. "How is she?" she asks, her voice creaking out of her throat.

"She's better," Triss says. "You managed to get most of the dimeritium out of her, and I've devised a method to draw the remainder out through her skin-" She winces. "-though it's not pleasant."

" _I_ managed to-" Tissaia frowns. "I have no memory of treating her."

"No, well, I can understand why." Triss takes her hand and squeezes gently. "Do you remember anything of the battle?"

Tissaia thinks back. The last memory she has is of standing on that hill, of letting her chaos loose. She shakes her head. Triss smiles.

"You defeated the entire Nilfgaardian army," she tells her. "You won the battle."

"How?" Tissaia whispers, trying to recall something, anything.

"I didn't see, but the people who did speak of you raining lightning strikes down like hellfire, commanding the four winds," Triss' eyes are bright with something like admiration, and they stray to the form on Tissaia's opposite side. "They say you were magnificent."

"I don't remember anything," Tissaia says, her voice becoming stronger with each word. "I can't-" She shakes her head. "And then you say I healed Yennefer?"

Triss nods. "She says that after the storm, you came back to her in some sort of trance like state and held your hands over her. The dimeritium started to leave her body." Triss grins. "The language she used to describe the pain was quite colourful."

Tissaia turns to look at Yennefer's back. "I'm sure."

"Then you passed out," Triss continues. "Yennefer had regained enough magic to communicate telepathically so she relayed your position to the search party. And they brought you both here." Triss' smile turns soft. "Every moment she's not being treated, she insists on being by your side. It quickly became apparent that it was easier just to let her."

Testing her tired muscles, Tissaia groans. "I feel as weak as a kitten. How long have we been here?"

"It will be ten days tomorrow."

"Ten _days_?" Tissaia tries to sit up, forgetting her arm is trapped, and succeeds only in disturbing Yennefer, who huffs and turns over, snuggling closer to her, draping an arm over her waist. The movement affords her the opportunity to free her arm, and she winces as blood rushes back into parched vessels.

"You've been delirious with fever for most of it," Triss says, adjusting the covers over them. "You've had bouts of consciousness, but we were never really sure how aware you were of your surroundings. Yennefer's presence seemed to calm you." With mischief dancing in her eyes, Triss lifts her brows. "Yen tends to have the opposite of a calming effect on most people, so it came as quite a surprise."

Tissaia hums in agreement, her fingers absentmindedly combing through Yennefer's hair as the feeling returns to them. There is a calm within her now, despite having just been told that she has no memory of the last ten days of her life. She's alive, and Yennefer's alive. And that's all that seems to be of importance right at this moment.

"She was always different, wasn't she?" Triss observes. Tissaia looks up at her for elaboration. "For you, I mean. Whenever you spoke of her, there was always something-" Her brow creases as she tries to find the words. "- _something_."

"Yes," Tissaia finds herself saying. "She's always been different."

"You'll probably feel-"

Triss is interrupted when Yennefer's head shoots up from its resting place on Tissaia's shoulder. Her eyes are unfocussed, but bright. The crease on her brow soon clears when she meets Tissaia's gaze.

"You're awake!"

"So it would seem." Tissaia smiles up at her. "Hello darling."

Blinking too rapidly, Yennefer clears her throat. "So, not to seem ungrateful or anything," Yennefer says, finding her hand and threading their fingers together. "Because I know saving the world is probably quite tiring, but leaving a girl waiting for _ten days_ for a kiss is a bit much, wouldn't you say?"

Tissaia lowers her eyebrows. "I didn't kiss you when I came back to you after-"

Yennefer's laughter cuts her off. "Ummm, no." She shakes her head. "You were, frankly, quite terrifying. And very focused." She scrunches up her nose. "Not that I wouldn't have been into it, the lightning flashing in your eyes was really quite arousing, but kissing did not seem to be on your mind at that point."

Making a mental note to ask more about that later, Tissaia lifts a hand to Yennefer's face, stroking her thumb over her lips.

"Triss," Yennefer says, never removing her gaze from Tissaia's. "You may wish to avert your eyes. It's about to get amorous in here."

Triss laughs. "I'll leave you in peace for a little while," she says, coming to squeeze Tissaia's shoulder. "But I _will_ be back to check on both of you in half an hour or so. So please do try to be finished whatever you're going to do by then."

Yennefer gives her an exaggerated pout. "Half an hour is _not_ enough time."

"Half an hour, Yennefer," Triss says as she leaves. "Use it well."

Sighing, Yennefer turns her attention back to Tissaia and lifts her eyebrows. "I was joking about that, by the way. Whatever torture Triss is putting me through on a daily basis is leaving me fucked. And not in a good way."

"There will be plenty of time for that," Tissaia assures her, lifting both hands now to frame her face and draw her close. "A kiss, though, I think we can manage."

"Just about," Yennefer murmurs before their lips meet.

The chaos she'd assumed was still spent from the battle surges to life in Tissaia's chest and she pulls away with a gasp. Yennefer's looking at her with wide eyes.

"Did you feel that too?" Yennefer whispers. She looks down between them and brings a hand to her own chest. "It felt like-" She looks back up. "Your magic was-"

"Calling to yours?" Tissaia asks, for that's the only answer. Her chaos and Yennefer's are linked in some way.

"Yes." Yennefer nods. "That's never happened to me before."

"Nor I," Tissaia admits, covering Yennefer's hand on her chest, running her thumb along the ridges of her knuckles. "But then, I've never really allowed myself to really let mine loose before. I was always afraid."

"That it would consume you?" Yennefer asks. "I've had those feelings myself."

"Yes," Tissaia lifts her chin. "But I think, between us, we may have found our balance."

Yennefer's smile grows wide and bright, but she tries to twist it into a smirk. "Are you going to say something terribly sentimental now, Rectoress?"

"I don't think I need to, do I?" Tissaia asks, catching Yennefer's chin between her thumb and forefinger, tipping her face down.

When Yennefer shakes her head, her nose brushes Tissaia's. "No."

Tissaia is smiling when Yennefer's lips meet her own. Again she feels the tug in her chest, the rush of chaos, a momentary panic before another force comes into play and a dance begins between the two, twirling and dipping and swaying, but never veering towards danger or fear.

Only love.


End file.
